


Attached

by sanctuary_for_all



Series: The Only One I Ever Trusted [7]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Feels, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, This Is Len And Mick We're Talking About, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 17:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7473639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Technically, Len owes Mick a ring. At least, half of one.</p>
            </blockquote>





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At some point, Len noted for the dozenth time, he and Mick really needed to steal themselves another couch.

Until they found the time to do that – apparently, people didn’t run across a lot of useful furniture during the average bout of day-saving, and after that they’d still need to anchor it onto the floor of the ship – the bed in what was now their room did well enough. He no longer needed to hook his legs up over the back of the couch to give Mick room – there was an entire other side of the bed – and he could accept grease stains on the bedding if it meant Mick tinkered here instead of someplace it would be harder for Len to casually stay within touching distance.

At that particular moment, Len was stretched out across his side of the bed, his lower leg resting warmly against Mick’s thigh. The other man was sitting on his side, facing the opposite direction as he put back together the gun he had just taken apart. He’d started tinkering with the other guns in the ship’s armory, learning them as well as he knew his heat gun, and if the gleam in Mick’s eye was any indication a cannibalized super-gun was going to be his next project.

“You know, if you start making your own weapons, Sara’s wish list is going to get ridiculous,” Len said absently, watching Mick work. In the old days, he’d pretended to read rather than make it clear how much of his attention was on Mick, but there was no longer any need to keep up that particular pretense.

Mick smirked, eyes still on the energy coil he was fitting back into place. “At least she’s easier to shop for than you are.”

Len smirked back. “I’m a man of refined tastes. There’s no shame in that.”

“Maybe not, but it makes Christmas damn annoying.” Mick looked up long enough to meet his eyes, tilting his head toward the ring Len still wore on his pinkie. “It also makes me wonder why you’re still wearing that around. I know it’s got sentimental value, but it’s not your usual style.”

Len lifted his hand enough to examine the ring. It really  _wasn't_ his style – he didn't wear jewelry at all, let alone pinky rings. And even if he ever started, he wouldn't choose a ring that even the kindest person would have to describe as dramatic.

But it felt surprisingly good on his hand, far more than he would have imagined all those years when he'd kept it carefully tucked away. It was grounding, somehow, in the same way that being next to Mick often was.

Since that was far too embarrassingly sentimental to say out loud, he merely smiled a little and rubbed it with his thumb. "What? You don't think it suits me?"

Mick raised a disbelieving eyebrow. " _You_ didn't think it suited you. For decades."

Len shook his head. "That's not why I didn't wear it," he said softly, turning his attention back to the ring. He'd always kept it on him – they'd had to cut and run enough times over the years to trust anything that important to the hideout – but he'd worn it only rarely. The instinct to keep the most important things close to his chest was too strong. His life had taught him that the only way to keep something safe was to keep it secret.

He'd started wearing it because he'd finally realized he was keeping too many secrets from Mick.

"Felt too much like a confession," he said finally, looking up at Mick with a self-depreciating quirk of his lips. "Besides, it's technically half yours. For all I knew, you'd ask for your cut."

It had been a joke, mostly, but something in Len's chest caught when Mick's expression went still. He watched Len for a long moment, looking thoughtful. "Now that I think about it," he said finally, holding Len's gaze. "You do kind of owe me a ring. Stolen, of course."

Slowly, Len's heart started to pound harder than it ever had in a firefight. "Half of one," he managed finally, the words barely more than a breath. "Technically."

Mick shrugged. "So you'll own half of mine, and I'll own half of yours." His lips quirked. "Seems like a fair deal."

It took awhile before Len could manage to get anything past the lump in his throat. "We'll have to steal this one together, too." He pushed himself up into a sitting position, moving towards Mick.

The curve of Mick's lips slowly grew into an actual smile just before their lips met. "Sounds fair to me."

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my new original fiction on my [blog](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


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